


The Other Woman

by spikewriter



Series: The Lynley and Havers Stories [1]
Category: Inspector Lynley Mysteries (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-31
Updated: 2012-05-31
Packaged: 2017-11-06 09:17:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/417235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spikewriter/pseuds/spikewriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The words fell easily out of his mouth and he stopped, the realization hitting him hard.  Set post-series, but pre-romance</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Other Woman

Lynley handed the file back to Barbara. “Good work, Havers. You’ll have the results by morning?”

“With luck, they’ll be waiting on your desk.” She leaned slightly to one side, looking past him, back into the restaurant’s main room. “I, ah, should let you get back to your date.”

Turning, Lynley saw Christina Mannering looking slightly annoyed at being abandoned. “I’d better go make amends.”

“Might not be so easy,” he heard Barbara mutter under her breath, then said. “I’ll see you tomorrow, sir.”

Before he could ask her what she meant, Barbara was gone, headed out the door, leaving Lynley no choice but to head back to the table. “Sorry about that,” he said as he sat down. “We’re in the middle of a case.”

“You’re always in the middle of a case, Tommy. Not that I want to sound like a clinging vine, but it would be nice if sometimes you left work at work when we’re out together.”

The words had an ugly sense of déjà vu about them. “I’m sorry — but business is done, so I’m all yours for the rest of the evening.”

They picked up eating again, until a thought occurred to him. “Sorry. Just let me send a text.”

Quickly, he typed out _Check on Byron’s phone records. Calls to Anna?_ and hit “Send.” Shoving the phone back in his jacket, he smiled across the table at Christina. “Just needed to tell Havers to check something else.”

Christina put down her fork and leaned forward. "You do realize that Helen referred to her as the Other Woman.”

Lynley didn't like the sound of that at all. "You're joking."

"It the only the once and Helen insisted almost immediately afterwards that she had the greatest respect for your sergeant — said the woman would lay down her life to keep you safe. She knew you weren't being unfaithful, but the fact the two of you sometimes seemed joined at the hip annoyed her all the same."

"I really don't think —"

"Tommy. In the six weeks we've been seeing one another, how many times have you either called Barbara Havers during a date, or she's had to call or come see you about something?"

He couldn't help shifting uncomfortably. “It’s work. You know I’m very serious about what I do.”

“And I admire you for that. It’s a difficult job; I certainly couldn’t do it. But it’s also clear that it — and your partner — come before everything else.”

Suddenly he knew how the evening was going to end. “May we finish dinner before I put you in a taxi or shall I have one called now?”

Christina sighed. “Now you’re going to play the martyr. Don’t do that; it’s unattractive. I’m certainly not going to act like Brooke Busby and throw my drink — and wasn’t it interesting who she threw her drink at?”

The Honorable Miss Brooke Busby really had been one of his dating disasters, losing her temper when Barbara had come to fetch him at a cocktail party he really hadn’t wanted to go to. If he’d had cell phone reception, Barbara could have called instead of appearing, but the summons back to the Met had been urgent enough to require her fetching him. Brooke had lost her temper, stamped her feet petulantly and culminated the performance by throwing her drink at Barbara, calling her a vile creature who wanted to keep Lynley for herself.

Barbara had been wet and humiliated, enough so that he’d tossed his keys to Simon and Deborah St. James, made his apologies to the host, and gotten Barbara out of there before she could explode. He’d let her drive back because he didn’t want to set her off, and she hadn’t said a word the entire time, her hands white-knuckle gripping the steering wheel. Only when they’d gotten into the parking garage had she launched into a tirade about the worthless upper classes and how Lynley showed a sad lack of taste in his dating choices. Then, when she’d calmed down enough that they could appear in their superior’s office, they’d had to explain to Evans why Barbara reeked of alcohol.

“What exactly are you saying?” Lynley asked, not really certain he wanted to hear the answer.

“Only that you’re going to have a difficult time dating anyone with your job and the fact there’s another person you always put first. This begs the question, Tommy; with Helen gone, why haven’t you tried dating Barbara Havers? She’s clearly devoted to you and from what I understand, she single-handedly put you back together when you were grieving.”

“Havers is Havers. She’s my partner — and the best colleague I could ever hope to have. She stands by me through thick and thin, she was my support when Helen and I separated. Hell, she was the one who tried to save Helen when she was shot. She’s bright, brilliant, and the reason I get up in the morning.”

The words fell easily out of his mouth and he stopped, the realization hitting him hard. “Good lord.”

“Have a drink; I think you need it.”

He took a very large slug of wine, his mind wandering around the possibility. “I had no idea.”

“Clearly.” Christina seemed terribly amused. “It is a bit funny, Tommy. You look absolutely gobsmacked.”

“Because I am? What do I do? Do I just go and tell her?”

“Do you think she might run in the opposite direction?”

“Probably. Barbara has no use for what she calls ‘our lot’ — I think she’d choke at the idea of being Lady Asherton.”

Christina laughed. “You are in love with her. You’re already racing ahead to marriage and you haven’t even asked her to coffee yet. Really, it is too, too funny.”

“You’re not angry?”

“No. I like you, but I’m certainly not desperately in love with you. I was hoping that if we rubbed along well enough, maybe we’d reach a point we might consider something more, but not if you’re in love with someone else. One word of advice: don’t go rushing forward in that headstrong way of yours and declare yourself. Sound the ground out first; she might react better.”

She reached for her own glass. “Now, we’re going to finish dinner and you’ll drive me home. I’ve just lost out to the other woman; I’m definitely having dessert.”


End file.
